Least Read Observational Poems
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poetry about life, society and the natural world
Find an undiscovered masterpiece in the DU Poetry least read poems.
yelluw_always
Poem Published
30th Apr 2019 6:31am
30th Apr 2019 6:31am
Lakeside 29/30
And the wind soughing in the trees
Catches in their ears, is sent out
In scouting parties of sensation down their spines.
If you say it became language or it was nothing,
Who touched whom?
In what hurtle of starlight?
Poor language, poor theory
Of language. - Robert Hass
I take out the box, it could be any kind-
a shoebox or a treasure chest, or a room-
and currently the lid is closed. I’m not
here to talk about the cat,
if it’s dead or present. Here I am in life,
opening it and what do you know
but a...
Catches in their ears, is sent out
In scouting parties of sensation down their spines.
If you say it became language or it was nothing,
Who touched whom?
In what hurtle of starlight?
Poor language, poor theory
Of language. - Robert Hass
I take out the box, it could be any kind-
a shoebox or a treasure chest, or a room-
and currently the lid is closed. I’m not
here to talk about the cat,
if it’s dead or present. Here I am in life,
opening it and what do you know
but a...
#identity
#NaPoWriMo2019
10 reads
3 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
5th Apr 2020 6:33am
5th Apr 2020 6:33am
I rub upon your 4/30
I rub upon your
temples
coarse
finger grains
fine
the microcosm
the mica
the pumice
of breaking apart
i could break it down
phonetically
with eye
naked
exfoliated
but the ocular
that’s learned how things occur
the abstract
mold concept
superimposed
rods
cones
making wind
stone
my words
pottery
they are the clay
living poetry
ephemeral dirt
in oyster shells
temples
coarse
finger grains
fine
the microcosm
the mica
the pumice
of breaking apart
i could break it down
phonetically
with eye
naked
exfoliated
but the ocular
that’s learned how things occur
the abstract
mold concept
superimposed
rods
cones
making wind
stone
my words
pottery
they are the clay
living poetry
ephemeral dirt
in oyster shells
#identity
#myself
10 reads
1 Comment
OyateInyanNajin
Poem Published
21st Feb 2021 00:51am
21st Feb 2021 00:51am
BOG-QUAG (1983, Laguna Beach, California)
bogged in lifes
myriad quags
what fate
this disconnected cog
intently hounded
by paper dogs
lost at odds
in social fogs
distortia
all around me
wave after wave
of such mazes
amaze me
downtrodden in life
not even
the graves free
time
the fickle friend
will tease
taunt
and trample me
to the end
such an annoying
bitter wind
what lessons
does it send
to either freeze
or free me
so early
torn apart
relentless tearings
worn scarred...
myriad quags
what fate
this disconnected cog
intently hounded
by paper dogs
lost at odds
in social fogs
distortia
all around me
wave after wave
of such mazes
amaze me
downtrodden in life
not even
the graves free
time
the fickle friend
will tease
taunt
and trample me
to the end
such an annoying
bitter wind
what lessons
does it send
to either freeze
or free me
so early
torn apart
relentless tearings
worn scarred...
#strength
#hope
#humankind
#LifeCycle
#aging
10 reads
0 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
Lakeside 21/30
It is a fact, a small fact. A known one
among our kind. Among the singed.
Among the moths of fringes and in their
fringes is this fact burnt from that what
we misunderstand as the moon in the kitchen.
It is a joyous metaphor of the night-blues.
There we edge drawers of butchers
and carvers. There we prosody
with the mashers and the strainers.
The boiling point and the preservatives,
the thermostat that will sink in a side.
All those are emotions ready at hand
for lamentations of...
among our kind. Among the singed.
Among the moths of fringes and in their
fringes is this fact burnt from that what
we misunderstand as the moon in the kitchen.
It is a joyous metaphor of the night-blues.
There we edge drawers of butchers
and carvers. There we prosody
with the mashers and the strainers.
The boiling point and the preservatives,
the thermostat that will sink in a side.
All those are emotions ready at hand
for lamentations of...
#identity
#nature
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
11 reads
5 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
23rd Apr 2019 5:05am
Lakeside 22/30
We say who we were right then.
Tell me, were you made to uncurl
your proboscis and bend the antennae
down as the television turns into dirty snow.
We disturb each other’s entry-ways
with tell me more, tell me more about the world
outside, I’ve just came from this place,
this cemented state,
something grey and narrow and it wasn’t the sky,
I barely made it out. The subject always
leaves the kitchen lights on with the grace
of a million moons. Somehow, we flew there
without science. Once upon a hot night,
I...
Tell me, were you made to uncurl
your proboscis and bend the antennae
down as the television turns into dirty snow.
We disturb each other’s entry-ways
with tell me more, tell me more about the world
outside, I’ve just came from this place,
this cemented state,
something grey and narrow and it wasn’t the sky,
I barely made it out. The subject always
leaves the kitchen lights on with the grace
of a million moons. Somehow, we flew there
without science. Once upon a hot night,
I...
#identity
#nature
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
#culture #NaPoWriMo2019
11 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
5th Apr 2020 6:01am
5th Apr 2020 6:01am
I want to say 3/30
I want to say
trip the
light
fantastic but it means to
dance
this is not what I want to say here
I want to sign a
requiem
for a
dream but that’s
a movie
for tripping
it’s telling me all kinds of
things
it’s gesturing me
to
conduct
compose
di-
a -
gram
a
mirror
of
my own
light
it’s telling
me to
own lines
& let’s not
drown
in the mirror ...
trip the
light
fantastic but it means to
dance
this is not what I want to say here
I want to sign a
requiem
for a
dream but that’s
a movie
for tripping
it’s telling me all kinds of
things
it’s gesturing me
to
conduct
compose
di-
a -
gram
a
mirror
of
my own
light
it’s telling
me to
own lines
& let’s not
drown
in the mirror ...
#identity
#myself
11 reads
2 Comments
Shakespearan-Sweet
Poem Published
7th Jun 2020 4:03pm
7th Jun 2020 4:03pm
Unconsciousness Ink
I CANT BREATH”!
“I CANT BREATH”!
“Without God’s love”
“Without God’s love”
"My God, My God,
“why hast thou forsaken me?"
(“Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?”)
“I CANT BREATH”!
“Without God’s love”
“Without God’s love”
"My God, My God,
“why hast thou forsaken me?"
(“Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?”)
#hope
#LifeStruggles
#religion
#God
#freedom
11 reads
2 Comments
DAGODDESS
Poem Published
4th Mar 2021 9:19am
4th Mar 2021 9:19am
WHERE STARS ARE BORN
I’M FROM A PLACE WHERE
WE ROCK OUR SWORDS IN OUR BACKS
LIKE MEDALLIONS
WEARING EVERY PAIN WE FEEL
AS SOME SACRIFICE WE’RE MAKING
CARRYING AROUND BURDENS
LIKE SWEET MEMORIES
CROWDING UP OUR SPACES
OUR FONDEST MEMORIES FILLED WITH FEAR AND REGRET
MISSING OUR MOTHERS
I’M FROM A PLACE WHERE
LOVE IS SOMETHING TO BE WEARY OF
RATHER THAN KEEP YOU COMFY
KEEP YOU WARM AND CUDDLY
THAT’S NOT IDEAL FOR US
LOVE
KILLING YOU SLOWLY
BREAKING YOUR HEART DOWN
PEELING BACK LAYERS LIKE CLOTHING
LEAVING YOU NAKED ...
WE ROCK OUR SWORDS IN OUR BACKS
LIKE MEDALLIONS
WEARING EVERY PAIN WE FEEL
AS SOME SACRIFICE WE’RE MAKING
CARRYING AROUND BURDENS
LIKE SWEET MEMORIES
CROWDING UP OUR SPACES
OUR FONDEST MEMORIES FILLED WITH FEAR AND REGRET
MISSING OUR MOTHERS
I’M FROM A PLACE WHERE
LOVE IS SOMETHING TO BE WEARY OF
RATHER THAN KEEP YOU COMFY
KEEP YOU WARM AND CUDDLY
THAT’S NOT IDEAL FOR US
LOVE
KILLING YOU SLOWLY
BREAKING YOUR HEART DOWN
PEELING BACK LAYERS LIKE CLOTHING
LEAVING YOU NAKED ...
#oppression
11 reads
0 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
2nd Apr 2020 7:14am
2nd Apr 2020 7:14am
This strange bouquet 1/30
This strange bouquet
of micro-
organisms, poisoning as glassed dandelion
seeds blown, people skirting to a ball wearing bal-
aclavas, canvases
across their mouths highlight the speaking
eyes, the clear palpable
distance
in the torque language is
fear
swallowing an air swarm
Oh, belle-
donnas, you are a
quaquaversal vein
through the micro-scope
of space
of micro-
organisms, poisoning as glassed dandelion
seeds blown, people skirting to a ball wearing bal-
aclavas, canvases
across their mouths highlight the speaking
eyes, the clear palpable
distance
in the torque language is
fear
swallowing an air swarm
Oh, belle-
donnas, you are a
quaquaversal vein
through the micro-scope
of space
#politics
#apocalypse
#culture #fear
#culture #fear
12 reads
6 Comments
robert43041
Viking
Viking
Poem Published
2nd Mar 2021 6:23pm
2nd Mar 2021 6:23pm
Perception
One thing that is open
Is our Métro. It is our Subway,
Our U-Bahn. It gives us
A semblance of freedom
And liberty in this Age of
Confinement.
Though it is a life Underground
As if we were weird creatures
Afraid to see what we would find
Were we allowed to go above
And see for ourselves.
Is our Métro. It is our Subway,
Our U-Bahn. It gives us
A semblance of freedom
And liberty in this Age of
Confinement.
Though it is a life Underground
As if we were weird creatures
Afraid to see what we would find
Were we allowed to go above
And see for ourselves.
#hope
#motivational
12 reads
2 Comments
DCLXVI_1989
Poem Published
3rd Mar 2021 5:31am
3rd Mar 2021 5:31am
Blistered Souls
Blistered feet.
Worn from the jagged road.
Marched upon by the generations of endurance.
An achievement to instill pride in all.
All.
Each and every one of us.
So that granted may not be held with such frailty .
How they all got us here.
In this time of ours. This time that is us.
So that you may pass by the orchards without a glance.
They carved the paths that we still follow.
Still.
From them we are alive.
Those blistered feet that put us here.
Worn from the jagged road.
Marched upon by the generations of endurance.
An achievement to instill pride in all.
All.
Each and every one of us.
So that granted may not be held with such frailty .
How they all got us here.
In this time of ours. This time that is us.
So that you may pass by the orchards without a glance.
They carved the paths that we still follow.
Still.
From them we are alive.
Those blistered feet that put us here.
#family
12 reads
2 Comments
yelluw_always
Poem Published
11th Apr 2019 8:01am
11th Apr 2019 8:01am
Lakeside 10/30
The windmills fan their faces in cool joy.
Cartwheels walk the sky and feel with toes.
Listen, on the tippy toes are cartwheeling clouds.
Elephants cause earthquakes as they run.
Earthquakes make them run to higher ground.
Like children going out on a limb, higher.
Higher, out on a limb the children drop stones
into their faces, they see themselves as grass small.
They see themselves as grass, small with faces of dew.
Town-criers for the wind, for news of a bough.
...
Cartwheels walk the sky and feel with toes.
Listen, on the tippy toes are cartwheeling clouds.
Elephants cause earthquakes as they run.
Earthquakes make them run to higher ground.
Like children going out on a limb, higher.
Higher, out on a limb the children drop stones
into their faces, they see themselves as grass small.
They see themselves as grass, small with faces of dew.
Town-criers for the wind, for news of a bough.
...
#identity
#nature
#NaPoWriMo2019
13 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Least Read Poems about Life, Society and the World
